


They're Really Not That Heavy

by chocolatentropy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humor, Romance, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatentropy/pseuds/chocolatentropy
Summary: Sherlock Holmes watched, bemused, as Molly Hooper hurried forward, wrapped two small hands around the metal bars, bent her knees, leaned back, and pulled.He had never seen anyone manage to make doors look as heavy as Molly just had.





	

Sherlock Holmes watched, bemused, as Molly Hooper hurried forward, wrapped two small hands around the metal bar, bent her knees, leaned back, and pulled.

He had never seen anyone manage to make doors look as heavy as Molly just had.

She looked over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow at his immobility.

“Aren’t you coming in, Sherlock?”

He knitted his brows.

“Not just yet. Would you please step aside, Molly?”

The pathologist huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Oh for chrissakes Sherlock, just get in.”

“Please, Molly? I would like to test something.”

With a long-suffering glare, Molly relinquished her hold on the door, letting it swing closed, and stepped aside.

Sherlock reached out one arm, wrapped his hand around the metal bar previously held by a much smaller pair of hands just a moment past, and pulled.

The door swung open easily with him exerting just minimal effort.

“It isn’t that heavy,” he said with a note of wonder.

“Of course it isn’t,” she exclaimed. Then, hesitantly, “Sherlock… You’re not…”

“High? Do stop being ridiculous, Molly. I think we’re past the days of you pretending to be less intelligent than we both know you are. I was simply wondering why you opened this door the way you did.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Molly blurted, her blush telling a different story.

He quirked a brow at her.

Annoyed, she glared up at him, cheeks still red.

"Okay, Consulting Detective. How about you deduce why I do it like that?”

She stuck her chin out and crossed her arms.

Without missing a beat, he answered, “Efficiency, obviously.”

She shrugged.

“Well there you go. You knew it all along, why ask?”

He had the gall to roll his eyes like _she_ was the exasperating one, the prick.

“Because, Molly Hooper, that door is nowhere near heavy enough to merit much beyond minimal effort, so there’s no reason to open it other than the normal way, and frankly you just look ridiculously adorable opening it the way you did.”

She blinked up at him.

“What? What did you say?”

“I said, that door is-”

“No, the last bit.”

Another eyeroll from the manchild, and Molly Hooper’s palm started itching, but she kept her temper in check.

“I said, you just look ridiculous opening that door-”

“Liar!”

“Excuse me?”

“You are a liar, William Sherlock Scott Holmes.”

“I beg your pardon, Margaret Anne Hooper.”

“That was _not_ what you said. You had better repeat what you _actually_ said or this first date is not happening.”

Sherlock sighed, but a corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a telltale smile.

“Fine, Doctor Hooper,” he drawled, his voice dropping to melting dark chocolate levels. His arm snaked around her waist, and she let him pull her closer, “I said, you look so absolutely adorable opening doors in that quirky little way of yours, that I’m tempted to let you open doors for me all the time just to watch you do it.”

She dimpled up at him.

“Close enough. Now let’s head in. I’m famished.”

Sherlock stepped forward, keeping her tucked against him as he pulled the door open. The smell of fish and chips greeted them and Molly’s mouth watered.

“Why did you not just wait for me to open the door for you anyway?” Sherlock asked once they were seated, his thumb running over her knuckles as they held hands atop the table.

She smiled impishly.

“It’s the 21st century, my dear Sherlock. And really, doors aren’t that heavy.”


End file.
